Come What May
by thelivinggirl
Summary: When Burt suddenly passes away, Kurt has to cope with the difficulties life throws at him. At least he has Puck to lighten the load a bit. Puck/Kurt
1. Chapter 1

**Prolouge**

Kurt was in history, pretending to take notes on the economy in China but really practicing the subtle art of turning on Noah from across the room, when the phone call came through.

"Hello? Yes… okay." Was all that transpired between the teacher and whoever was on the other end of the line before the phone was hung up. "Kurt, Mr. Figgins office, now," was the lazy command that had Kurt packing up his things and, after sharing confused glances with Mercedes and Noah, walking out of the room.

Halfway there, his cellphone vibrated in his pocket. A message from his boyfriend read, "_Wat do u tink it is bout?"_

"_Idk_," he texted back, "_txt u l8r_."

Inside the office, his heart leapt into his throat when he saw a police officer, Ms. Pillsbury, and the school nurse standing next to Mr. Figgins desk. Kurt took a seat and crossed his legs as he waited for someone to say something.

"Kurt…" Principal Figgins began, "I don't quite know how to tell you this…"

"Am I in trouble?" Kurt squeaked, voice higher than normal.

Figgins shook his head. "No, not at all. Kurt," he said hesitantly, "your father has passed on."

Kurt blinked, not quite understanding as the words tumbled around in his brain without latching onto anything that could make sense of them. "What do you mean?"

"He had a heart attack while working in the garage. I'm so sorry, son."

Kurt tried to swallow, but it felt like his throat had ruptured. He tried to speak, but his throat and chest were ripping apart. He felt like he couldn't even breathe, and yet somehow he was hyperventilating as Ms. Pillsbury knelt in front of him and patted his hands and the nurse rubbed his back and Principal Figgins kept shaking his head and saying 'sorry' and the police officer did nothing at all before it all faded away.

Thank God.

…..

Kurt awoke on a plastic-covered narrow bed in the nurse's office with the feeling that he had been sleeping with his mouth open. Ms. Pillsbury was there, concern written over her face as she kept her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"Kurt?" She asked, "How are you feeling?"

He stared at her. "My dad's dead." As soon as he said the words, his emotions finally caught up with him. "Oh my God, my _dad_ is _dead_." Burt Hummel. Dead. Like his mom. He wasn't fixing a car, he wasn't watching _American Chopper_, and he wasn't going to be there when he got home because _he was dead_.

Tears ran down his face as he sobbed hysterically into his fist. Ms. Pillsbury looked like she wanted to help, but took one look at how Kurt's nose had begun to run and just couldn't.

Someone thrust a box of tissues into his lap, which he immediately used to blow his nose and muffle the high-pitched bawling issuing from his mouth.

Some time later, a strong pair of letterman-jacket-clad arms wrapped securely around his torso as Kurt gladly sunk into the familiar embrace.

….

**A/N: This story is set a few years in the future, so Puck is eighteen and Kurt is seventeen.**

**Sorry I killed you, Burt; you're one of my favorite characters :'(**

**This is going to be a relatively long, multi-chapter fic; my updates are irregular, to say the least :( sorry bout that. This is also my first fic for the Glee fandom; someone tell me if my characterizations are off, please?**

**The title comes from a song in _Moulin Rouge!_**

**And reviews take less than 30 seconds, but make my entire day!**


	2. Chapter 2

It was nearly the end of the day, and Noah Puckerman was wondering where the hell his boyfriend was when Emma Pillsbury burst into his study hall.

"Noah Puckerman?" She cried out frantically, eyes scanning the cafeteria.

Puck raised his hand. "Yo."

She rushed over, motioning for him to stand before she nearly ran out of the cafeteria, forcing him to jog to keep up with her tiny, flighty body.

"Is everything okay? Is it Kurt?" Could this have something to do with the lack of response to his texts?

"Yes!" She squeaked as they neared the nurse's office. "I mean, no! He – his – just, here!" She flung open the door to reveal Kurt crying hysterically into hands cupping a tissue, bent over his knees with the strength of his of his sobs.

Not pausing a moment, Puck moved into the room and immediately held Kurt, lifting his body into his lap and tucking the perfectly-styled head into his neck as the boy unfurled his body just enough to mold to Puck's.

"Shh… shh... it'll be okay. Whatever it is, it'll be okay. Did someone fuck with you? Are you hurt? I'll fix it, baby, just talk to me, just please stop crying." Puck whispered, halfway to growling, dropping kisses to Kurt's hair to help soften his vibe. He knew that it was probably best for him to be kind and supportive right now, but couldn't help that seeing Kurt in pain made him want to kill someone.

"M-" Kurt whimpered into the skin of his neck, "M- m- m-" followed by something so completely incomprehensible that even Kurt seemed to give up on speaking, dissolving into harsh sobs after a few seconds.

Puck took a deep breath. When his sister Sarah was a little girl, she had a panic attack the night after a classmate of hers had a seizure right next to her. His mom had been picking up a double-shift that night, and he had to call 911 and have the man on the end of the line give him instructions to calm her down. Doing it again now might keep Kurt from passing out from crying so hard.

"Kurt," he said, dislodging his boyfriend's head from his neck, "Look at me, baby." It was a testament to exactly how adorable Kurt was that his swollen red eyes, complete with the _tiniest _hint of smeared mascara, and mucus running out of his nose only broke Puck's heart rather than turning his stomach.

"That's good, baby. That's perfect. Now," he took Kurt's hand and placed it flat against his chest, "Take a deep breath, okay? Breathe in," Puck's chest swelled "and breathe out. Do it with me, okay?"

Kurt tried, but his throat seemed to spasm, sending him into a coughing fit that devolved into crying once more. Puck swore under his breath, but after two more tries succeeded in somewhat calming Kurt down.

"Now, tell me nice and calm, Kurt; _what's wrong_?"

Kurt whimpered, but managed to choke out, "My dad died," before reburying his face in Puck's neck.

...

**Sorry, guys. I hate these stupid tiny updates, but shorter pieces mean more frequent updates.**

**In your reviews, tell me what you'd prefer - longer gaps between updates with more meat on them, or 500 word tidbits like this every few days?**


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt spent the night at Puck's. Normally his mom would have said no, but she couldn't exactly turn away a sobbing showtune queen who had attached himself to Puck's collar like a limpet, so she just pressed her lips together and went to her room.

Noah spent the night laying behind Kurt, wearily rubbing the soprano's racked-up back in a futile attempt to get him to sleep. In the end, Kurt was up the whole night while Puck dropped off to sleep and woke up sporadically.

The next day was just as brutal as the first, starting with them staring into mutual cups of coffee at the kitchen table. Puck watched Kurt from across the table, the soprano's eyes red and swollen. He looked worse than he did that one day he came to school drunk.

Puck sighed. "Babe, just come here." He scooted his chair back and patted his lap encouragingly. Kurt didn't move. "Babe, seriously." Nothing.

The footballer stood and removed Kurt's untouched coffee from his grasp. "That's it, I'm taking you back to bed."

Kurt grasped the table. "No," he ground out in that prim, 'I'm-suffering-but-I'm-too-proud-to-act-like-it' voice of his. "I need to plan. I need to… to have the headstone made, and tell them to put him next to my mom, and pick a c… a casket and a suit and…" he choked back a sob, his head falling forward to rest in his hands.

Watching Kurt like that made Puck's stomach twist. Sure, Kurt could pick stupid fights sometimes and get kind of low, but he was never really this _sad_. Puck crouched by Kurt's chair and allowed the pale boy lean against him. "Listen," he tried to sooth, "Finn and his mom are in this with you. Hell, she's probably nearly as bad as you are, but she'll be able to help. I'm here; you don't have to do this by yourself. So just… take some time. Okay?"

Kurt snuffled into his shoulder and allowed the football player to guide him back to his room. After the crying, grief, and staying up all night, Kurt was soon dead to the world. Puck smoothed back his hair in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture and left him there, letting the door click behind him.

"How long do you plan on letting him stay here?" Puck whirled around to see his mother standing in the kitchen, arms crossed.

"I don't know. As long as he wants, I guess." Puck grunted, going to make himself some breakfast.

"This isn't his house, Noah."

"I _know_ that!" He said angrily, staring down the woman in front of him. "But he's _my_ boyfriend, and his dad just died! He has hardly any relatives left, I'm not gonna kick him out!"

"What about Carol?" She asked.

"I don't know, mom! Finn's probably dealing with her. I'll take Kurt over later, but he's gonna sleep first, so just let it go!"

The bacon hissed in the pan, egg yolk running into the pig product like a flood. "I'm not trying to be the bad guy, Noah."

Puck rubbed his eyes. "I know, but you're never nice to him, even last night."

"I just wanted you to find a nice Jewish girl, and instead you came back with a girly German _boy_!" She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, her entire body tense. "This isn't easy for me to accept, but I'm trying. Sarah and I are going to Macy's today to get her a new dress. We might run some other errands, so don't expect us back before you leave." She turned to go wake up his sister.

"Mom."

She turned back. "What?"

"Will you at least come to the funeral?"

She said nothing for a moment, but then answered with a resolute "Yes."

…

Kurt and Noah walked into the Hummel's living room to find Carol laid out on the couch, and Finn watching TV in an armchair. A loud sniff from Kurt alerted the Hudsons to their presence. Carol looked up and set her watery eyes on Kurt, tears welling up. "Oh Kurt…" She stood, beckoning Finn, and Kurt was enveloped in a group hug. Puck quickly stepped back – he'd gladly give Kurt a squeeze or two when he needed it, but he didn't do group hugs. (No, football huddles and threesomes don't count!)

Kurt was stiff to Carol's advances, warring with himself – while it would be so easy to give in to the motherly woman and sink into the embrace, he wasn't entirely comfortable with her as his new 'mom'. Finn, on the other hand, he heavily leaned against, and Puck had to do some minor anger management to keep from getting jealous of his best friend.

"Honey, it's all going to be okay," she bawled. "We'll take care of everything together." Even Puck could see Kurt beginning to melt a little as he tried to keep from snotting on her clothes. The soprano nodded wearily, and eventually wormed his way out of the hug and back to Puck. "I just… I don't know what to do now." He said quietly as he watched Carol bustle around and pick tissues off the floor.

"Don't worry about it," Puck murmured. "It'll turn out okay."

**YEAH, I UPDATED BITCHES!**

**So I decided not to write out Burt and Carol's relationship - I think it will add some conflict and depth to the story. I also just re-watched a few episodes of Glee, so I think I have a better handle on everyone's characterizations now.**

**I've never really liked Puck's mom - I think she's way too hung up on tradition, and kind of a sad-sack when you get right down to it. Still, I'm trying to make her realistic, not some sadistic, evil woman. And I always felt that Kurt never completely accepted Carol's role and in his and his dad's life.**

**Anyways, I'll try to update more often... **

_**Reviews take less than 30 seconds, but make my entire day!**_


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